It was said that Gallifrey fell no more
by LaurenceCartwright
Summary: After being shown a terrible future for Gallifrey by the Daleks, the Doctor must find a way of removing Rassilon as Lord President. Meanwhile, the Master has to escape from a primitive world, a plague runs riot in the lost city of Nalsatti, a rebellion breaks out, and a forgotten Time Lord asks for help to ensure Gallifrey's future survival.
1. The Fall

**AN: Another story, following on from Planet of the Cybermen. It should be easy to find, but if you can't be bothered to read it, here's where we stand.**

**POTC was set after Time of the Doctor, featuring the 12th Doctor.**

**Rassilon is Lord President of a now democratic Gallifrey.**

**The Master has been sent to a primitive world, and is stuck there.**

**The Cybermen, which the Master used to build an army against Gallifrey, were destroyed by him in a ship orbiting Gallifrey.**

**Laila is a human who can regenerate, originally from the now-destroyed Greenlandic town of Ilunavik, stuck on Gallifrey and learning to fly a TARDIS.**

**I thought that POTC was a tad linear. This won't be. There are several different storylines going on here, and the first few chapters will cover all of them.**

* * *

The Master fell from the sky. He hit the ground, having fallen about 20m, onto soft ground – not enough to cause him serious injury, just a few cuts and bruises. He looked up at the sky where he had fallen from, slightly dazed, watching the crack among the tall trees fade away. Soon, all he could see was greenery, with small specs of sunlight poking through. He lay around for a bit. He had no idea where he was, and he had no idea whether it was inhabited by anything more than plants and wild animals. At least he could breathe the air.

After lying around for about ten minutes, he finally found the energy to stand up and look around. He started to push his way through the shrubbery that surrounded him at the base of the trees. He was definitely in some kind of rainforest. But what planet? After walking for a couple of minutes, he came to a steep drop. He looked across at the land before him.

It was alive. The canopy of trees spread across the surface, with a large river snaking its way across the scenery. Large birds glided across the sky above, temporarily blocking out one of the two suns behind them. According to the Master, this was a rich land, which could be used very effectively. But how to find a way out?

The Master heard a rustle of bushes behind him. He turned around and took a few steps away from the edge. He briefly caught a glimpse of something moving – something tall, but definitely moving on two legs. Some kind of civilised life? He heard a puff of air from behind. All of a sudden, a sharp object jammed into the back of his neck. A blowpipe seemed like the most likely explanation. The dazed feeling that he had had upon arrival returned, causing everything the Master could see or here to all morph into one array of sound and colour. He fainted, making his return to the ground.

* * *

The Master awoke, after what had felt like no time at all. However, time had evidently passed. Long enough for him to become tied by the hands and feet to a large branch, and left dangling, perched on top of two branches dug into the ground. The area was a small clearing, a circle about 100 metres in diameter, with typically high, narrow trees touching the sky around it. He was surrounded by a tribe of humanoid beings; all dressed lightly, some ceremonially. They had green skin, varying from mid green to very dark, and were typically about 2 to 2.5 metres tall. Two male beings were talking, one of which looked like the one he had seen earlier. He was relatively tall by comparison to his comrades, and quite lanky, with short, dark hair. The other was the tallest, and bore a headdress, as if to suggest that he was in charge. He was much larger than the first, with muscles that looked like he could snap him in half.

"It alive blowpipe?" asked the chief, in a surprised and primitive manor, "It alive deadly weapon."

"Me deadly person," the Master interrupted. Most of the tribesmen looked at him. Some of them pointed their arrows at him. The Chief stepped forward.

"You voice Hond?" he asked.

"Me voice all languages," the Master replied, "also languages basic you." This did not feel right to say, but it made perfect sense to the tribesmen. Pity the primitive nature of the language did not allow much scope for insults.

"Kill it," the chief demanded. This sentence was quite clear.

"No!" shouted the Master, "Me from stars."

"Stars?" asked the chief, "You angel?"

"Yes. Me angel." The Master felt relieved at this comeback.

The chief and all the tribesmen fell to their knees.

"Stand," requested the Master, "Release me."

"Cut rope," ordered the chief. The two tribesmen closest to the Master's limbs cut the rope, allowing him to drop, once again to the ground. He picked himself up and brushed himself off.

"Why you here?" asked the chief.

"Me come from stars and give you…," the Master searched for a word for 'technology' "…clever things."

"Clever things?" the chief looked confused.

"Clever things. Help you go stars. With me."

Cheering took place across the tribe. This would be a day that would be remembered for years and generations to come for them. They could finally reach the stars!

"Right then," said the Master, in his native Gallifreyan tongue, "Where do we begin?" He looked across the tribe with an equally deep satisfaction and relief. He knew it would take many years, but he knew how he could do it. He was going to go home. And he even had a crew he could take with him.


	2. The Lost City

Nalsatti was not a large city. It had a population of only 4.4 million, which was incredibly low by Gallifreyan standards. The dome hardly reached the impressive heights of the Citadel, and the buildings, beautiful as they were, did not rival those that existed across the globe. However, this did not prevent Nalsatti from becoming a place of remarkable wealth and wisdom, largely helped by the wealth there having relatively few people to divide it among. The roads were smooth, the architecture was well-kept, and crime rates were very low. Scientific research was a priority among the city's investment, as it was believed by its council that it would be important to keep up technology in order to safeguard the city's stature and the people's livelihoods.

And they were right. The Time War came, and a city as small as this was going to become incredibly vulnerable to Dalek attacks. They held out with all their military resources, despite being so cut off from the Citadel and other large, powerful cities. However, the Daleks soon began to up the ante, and after five months of intense attacks, Nalsatti began to feel the damage being done by these creatures.

The Nalsatti council converged to discuss how they were going to fend them off. Burib was the Lord Mayor of the city, and he was keen to get his people back on their feet. He had fairly short hair, which was turning grey due to the age of his current incarnation. He knew that a change was due soon, but not just yet. His advisor, Noquaro sat to his right. He was a tall, black man, with big ideas, which were what got him where he was, and also propelled Nalsatti to great heights. He wasn't yet ready for the role of Lord Mayor, however, as it was often Burib who talked sense into some of his wilder ideas. Soon, it seemed, there wouldn't be a city left for him to be Lord Mayor of.

"Nalsatti is falling to pieces," announced Burib, as if the council couldn't tell, "The Daleks have been harassing us for months, but they have retreated for more. This final attack could spell the end of life as we know it for us."

"Would now be a good time to use the Bubble of Eternity?" asked Noquaro. The Bubble of Eternity was a large time loop, capable of covering the entire city. Nobody could get in, nobody could get out. And those inside would be reset to where they were when the instrument was first deployed on a daily basis.

"The Bubble of Eternity is a last resort," replied Burib, "We don't even know if it works."

"This looks like a last resort situation. And while the Daleks are gone, none will be stuck inside."

"We can't use it. It could kill us all," Burib said with great authority.

A woman in the council stood. Her name was Palik, and she was responsible for scientific research that took place.

"The Bubble of Eternity is the best we have," she explained, "Nothing else is going to be able to hold off another Dalek attack."

Burib sat for a second. He didn't want to doom the city, but he didn't want to destroy it. "How dangerous is it?"

"We can't know for certain," Palik replied, "but the tests look pretty promising."

"Look at it this way," Noquaro insisted, "We could face the city being wiped out slowly and painfully, or we can take the risk, and potentially keep everybody safe until the war is over."

"If Gallifrey is still standing," Burib remarked, cynically. Everybody knew that this was not necessarily going to be the case.

Another man arose in the council – Unkada, the head of intercity relations. "I have to object to this," he announced, "The rest of Gallifrey could need us and our technology. If we use the Bubble of Eternity, we could cost the planet the war."

Burib looked at him, alarmed at Unkada's comment. "You think Gallifrey is going to miss us?" he asked, angrily. "Are we really that important?"

"Everybody must do their bit," Unkada replied, confidently.

"My concern is for the protection of the city!" Burib yelled, "If you want to join the war, get out before we are under a time lock."

Unkada took his seat again. Burib turned to Palik. "Get hold of the team in charge of the Bubble of Eternity," he instructed her, "ask them to turn it on. Meeting over."

A few hours later, the time lock launched across the entire city. It worked exactly as intended, and Nalsatti was protected perfectly against the Daleks. However, every 24 hours, the people of the city returned to what they were doing, wherever they were doing it.

This repetition took place thousands and thousands of times over the years, until Nalsatti was assumed lost, and the people in the city began to tire of the situations, exciting or awkward, or happy or depressing or chaotic that they repeated found themselves in. But there was no let up.

* * *

The end of the day approached, as Nalsatti faced yet another one of its countless resets. Two scientists stood, in white coats, in front of a console, one man and one woman. Both had been there at the switch on – something they barely remembered, despite always returning to the state of activation. All looked fine. Ilir, the man, looked at the seat where he was about to end up, holding the left-hand "Online" control. It took two people, to ensure that such a dangerous technology wasn't activated by accident. Ahira, the woman, could imagine herself, any second now, returning to her right hand spot. She was always a little fiddly around the switch, with her left hand just slipping towards her, but angled to the left, after every reset. The countdown began. 5…4…3…2…1…

Nothing happened. Ahira looked up at the tall Ilir, who put his right hand through his thick, curly brown hair. He didn't know what was going on. Ahira turned and looked at the status of the time loop. "System breached," the screen read, quite clearly.

"Ilir," she said, "would you check the radar? See if there's anything going on around here."

Ilir looked. His face went from curious to frightened. "Large spaceship heading straight for the city," he read.

Ahira turned equally worried. "Where did the ship originate from?" she asked, "is it crashing or can it be stopped?"

"It's crashing all right. It seems to be demagnetising the system due to sheer mass and metal."

"From where?"

Ilir looked at the screen. "Mondas," he replied.

The pair held each other tight, waiting for what was inevitable. They felt sorry for the rest of the city. They didn't know what was coming. Or maybe it was for the best. They could enjoy the few minutes they had left.

A few minutes later, as promised, the Cybership that had been taken down by the Master collided with the city. This was not prevented by the time loop, but instead cracked the dome and fell through. Buildings got knocked down, although some survived the impact, having not been central. But the explosion resonated across the entire city. An estimated 500,000 people were killed in that one moment, with nearly the entire city's population regenerating as a result. Artron energy filled the skies from all the changes that were going on. And this reached the ship's wreck, causing some life to animate itself.

* * *

Ilir and Ahira sat on the floor of their lab, slightly dazed. They were among the lucky few who had not regenerated.

"Lucky thing our lab is reinforced," said Ilir. He opened the door. In front of him sat the remains of Nalsatti. The shipwreck sat, clearly in front, in several pieces, with rubble from the city covering the area. It was astonishing that a place could go from a majestic array of buildings to this so quickly.

A small, metal, worm-like object crawled up Ilir's leg. Ahira saw it. "What's that?" she asked.

"Dunno, but I can feel it," Ilir responded. The object crawled up to his face. He froze for a second. Something was definitely wrong here. The being made its way through Ilir's left ear. And at this point he began to panic. He struggled, clutching his ear, which was in immense pain. Ahira could only watch, her mouth slightly open. Metalwork began to form on Ilir's face, and then the struggling stopped. The entire right hand side of his face was metal, with what looked like an eyepatch having taken shape over his eye.

"Ilir?" Ahira gasped. She had just survived the destruction of a city, but it did not compare to the fear coming from what was happening right in front of her. The offending object sat atop Ilir's new mask. He picked it up, and began walking towards Ahira. Ahira felt as though she was about to die. She stepped backwards, until she found herself cornered against a wall. Ilir raised his hand to place the thing on Ahira's left cheek. She screamed. The object found its way into her ear, and began the process.


	3. The Escape

**AN: The monster here appeared useless when we first saw it, but I can see a potentially deadly side to it which the episode it was in didn't do very well to exploit.**

* * *

A crowd had gathered across the central square in the Clombite city of Karb, capital of the Republic of Breck. Contrary to popular belief, Clom was a planet populated by a species which looked similar to Humans and Time Lords, and were not fat, green and disgusting. Technology-wise, the planet was similar to that of late 23rd century Earth – beginning to make interstellar contact with other life forms, and forming alliances. Clom had recently become the fourth member of the Raxas Alliance, along with the head planet Raxacoricofallapatorius, Raxacoricovarlonpatorius and Clix. Despite the technological steps forward, public execution was still in force across most of the planet, but one year ago, Breck changed this for a radical new solution. And it seemed to be working.

In the centre of the square, a tall platform was assembled. This used to be used for public hanging, and the ropes remained; only now they were for decoration only. The square and the local streets were cobbled, and the nearby buildings a red brick from the local geology. The city's head of execution stood atop this platform, holding a scroll.

"Karl Poloris," he read out, "you have been found guilty of the murder of Glyn Tergil, and have been sentenced to life imprisonment."

He brought up a yucky green creature, holding it in his arm. This was ok for him, as he was prevented from any harm, in a way unknown to the general public, for security reasons. Karl was not so lucky.

"One touch of the prison creature here will cause you to be absorbed into its skin, where you will spend the rest of your life…"

"Yes, I know how it works," Karl interrupted, "I've done my research." He looked worryingly confident.

"Very well," replied the executor, "This creature is a new one, and has not carried out any sentences before."

"Ooh, a fresh one. Very good."

The executor brought the creature closer to Karl. A cheer came from the crowd. They knew what was coming next. Most had seen it before, despite the fact that this was still a relatively new concept. The creature grabbed Karl by the arm. With a slight smile on his face, he disappeared into it completely. A bulge emerged on the right hand side of its belly, which morphed into Karl's face.

"Right now, I could have been choking to death in that thing," Karl said, eyeing towards the gallows, with what he had left, "But instead, I am now one with this creature, able to exchange thoughts. Was this really a good idea?"

The executor looked worried for a second. This hadn't happened before. The prison creature lurched towards him, and inspected his arm.

"Like I said," Karl announced, "I've done my research. And now, so has the creature."

The prison creature found the executor's silver wristband, tucked under his right sleeve. The executor put up a fight, but the creature found it and managed to remove it, throwing it to the floor, a short distance from them. It grabbed his wrist, and, after a brief moment of despair, the executor vanished, to then appear centrally on the creature's chest. The creature then turned to the crowd. Guards began to shoot.

"Apparently, I'm bulletproof," the creature observed, from its newfound knowledge. It had formed the ability to speak intelligently, an expected change for a newly broken-in prison creature.

It ran down the podium towards the crowd, which were beginning to turn and run. However, a crowd moved slowly at the back, and those closest were struggling to escape. The creature leapt the fence, and grabbed the shoulder of a young woman. She was suddenly sucked onto its back. Next was a middle-aged man. Right hip. A small boy. Lower back. An elderly woman. Front of right thigh. The desperate panic began to increase across the crowd. All of the victims would be lucky to last a year before disappearing completely, with little trace.

* * *

That night, following the chaos, a woman walked the streets of Karb. She was alone, and relatively young, tall, with blonde hair. She made her way towards where the prison creatures that had not escaped were stored, under tight security. She approached the entrance, where a lone guard stood.

"Excuse me," she said to him, "May I get through?"

The guard sniggered. "You think we let just anybody in?" he mocked.

The woman moved closer, and grabbed his right wrist.

"You'll let me in," she said, holding the silver wristband in her hand in front of him.

A look of terror spread across the guard's face. He watched, as the woman turned green, and then rapidly transformed into the prison creature that had escaped. Countless faces covered it, many groaning and crying for help. The creature grabbed the guard's wrist, before he could escape.

The psychic link between me and my victims means that I can take one of their forms whenever I like," it explained, "That woman you just saw is on here somewhere. Hmmm, let me find her…" The creature searched for the tall blonde woman's face, sobeit not tall or blonde any more. "There she is." It put its right hand over her face, causing her great discomfort. "I've had a busy day," it continued, sinisterly, "I've had a lot to fill me up. But look at this empty patch on my right shoulder. I've left space."

The guard finally vanished into the creature, and his face pushed out of its right shoulder, filling the previously faceless gap nicely. The creature turned its head at its shoulder, where the guard lay, gasping for breath and out of fear.

"You know a lot about this place, don't you," it said. It was beginning to turn very cold and sinister. "All these passageways and secret locks and keys. And now, I can use that."

It transformed once again into the guard, as though nothing had happened to him, and he was still at his post. He walked along inside the building, perfectly hiding the feeling of content that he now had, in order to remain professional.

The creature, in its perfect disguise, strolled through a corridor containing cells, each of which held a different prison creature, all in natural form. Each cell consisted of a relatively small room, with a transparent, but hard to breach door. Unless you knew the access code. Which the creature now did.

It tapped the code into the lock. A fellow guard saw it. "What are you doing?" she asked. The door slid open.

The guard-disguised creature turned to the newly-released creature. "Right wrist, silver band," it told it.

The newly-released creature grabbed the guard's wrist, just as had happened before, and removed it, before proceeding to take the female guard.

"You know the code?" asked the creature disguised as a guard.

The other creature morphed into the other guard. "I do now," it said.

The attack on the prison began, as guards were absorbed, and creatures released. Eventually, the place was taken, and all prison creatures, disguised as Clombite people, found their way out across the city. Karb was in for an attack of insane proportions.


	4. The Vision

Two male Time Lords walked through a dark, mysterious land. Both had grown up together, been to the Time Lord Academy together, graduated together, and now worked together. Both were still on their first incarnation, aged 183, so about middle-aged in appearance. Lucentio was a tall man, with silvery-white hair, which he kept very short, for his own convenience. His friend, Sithar was shorter and black, also with little hair, only darker than Luncentio's.

"You'd better be right about this, Lucentio," said Sithar, "I'm not sure how we're supposed to be able to be here. And it took us a week to get here, even by TARDIS."

"Have faith," replied Lucentio.

"Since when did you have faith?" Sithar asked, puzzled. Lucentio was renowned for having very little belief in anything.

"Trust me." Sithar still wasn't entirely satisfied, but kept walking, in the hope that he and his friend might meet the man they had imagined.

The duo was beginning to feel a little lost, when a voice shouted.

"Lucentio and Sithar," it cried out, "Welcome. Let's get a bit of light."

The pair looked where the voice was coming from. They could just about make out a masked figure with an outstretched arm, raised forwards, and slightly upwards. One by one, light crystals appeared above their heads, illuminating the area around them. It appeared like a large cavern, only made up of colours and lights and images that were beyond their wildest dreams. It was possibly the most beautiful place either Time Lord had ever been to. They were too busy looking around the place to notice that the man they had met had disappeared. Until he reappeared between them. Both men jumped and turned around to face him.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" the mysterious man asked, "Only it becomes a bit sameish after a billion years." His voice was deep and echoey.

"Who are you?" Sithar asked.

"I can't tell you that," the man replied, "Just call me God."

"God?" Lucentio asked. He had never believed in God before, unlike Sithar, who was fascinated by the possibility.

"Come with me," requested the man claiming to be divine, before disappearing. He reappeared on a ledge above."

"How?" asked Sithar. Suddenly, both men transported to the ledge.

"I've figured out who you are," Sithar announced, triumphantly, "We got here through a black hole. You're creating all this with anti-matter and your mind. And, just like the legend says, you have a mask. Plus you've been here for a billion years. Hello, Omega, creator of time travel. You aren't a God."

"I am a God," Omega argued, "Or at least, I should be!" His impressive voice began to bellow.

"You're a particularly clever and heroic Time Lord stuck in a crazy place," Sithar argued, "a legend among Gallifrey, but not a God."

A pounding occurred in Sithar's head, causing him to writhe in agony. "I could kill you with my mind," Omega warned, "maybe I would if I didn't need both of you to leave this place." He let him go.

"What do you need us for, Omega?" Lucentio asked, keen to move on.

"Our planet is in danger," Omega responded. He made a table appear with a crystal ball sitting on it. "Take a look." The ball created a 3D projection, which Lucentio and Sithar watched with intrigue. It showed an intense war between the Time Lords and the Daleks, which was an all-too familiar sight for all Time Lords, even young ones.

"The Time War," Lucentio observed, "But that's over. We weren't even born yet."

"Not just the Time War," Omega stated, "The Second Time War. Currently being prevented solely by the fact that Gallifrey is safely locked away in another dimension. For now. But there could be more," he continued, "What do you know about the city of Nalsatti?"

"I read that it was lost in the Time War," replied Lucentio.

"And now it is found."

"That's good, isn't it?" asked Sithar.

"Take a look," Omega responded.

The crystal ball showed the crashed Cybership, with Cyber mites travelling across the city, converting all findable living people.

"If this doesn't end, there will be an army of Time Lord Cybermen. That's Cybermen, with all the knowledge and powers of the Time Lords. That could become incredibly deadly."

"So what do you want us to do?" Lucentio asked.

"What is the most powerful living thing in the universe?" enquired Omega.

"Time Lords," replied Sithar, "That's why you need us. We're Time Lords. You lost that millions of years ago."

"No," Omega addressed them.

"Time Lord Cybermen," said Lucentio, confident in his listening skills.

"No."

"Daleks?" asked Sithar.

"No," Omega replied, not surprised that they didn't get it. "What if you could merge the universe's great creatures into one being?" he asked.

"It would be an extremely powerful force," Sithar replied.

"Correct. And it just so happens that this is possible. Scientists on a quiet, little-known planet have genetically engineered a solution."

"How?"

The crystal ball flickered another image. "The prison creature of Clom," Omega announced, "It's a bit rubbish as yet, but, its mind can connect with those of its victims. Stick multiple species and races together in this thing and who knows what you could create?"

"What do you want us to do?" Lucentio asked.

"I need you to go to Clom, find one and return it to Gallifrey."

"How? We can't get out of our pocket universe."

"There's a white hole not too far away. You should be able to access it from here in your TARDIS. I can't control the passage that closed off between your world and the Universe, but I can use this as a means of by-passing it." Omega handed Lucentio a staff, "Then, use this to return from inside your TARDIS. I will know when you want to come back."

"What do you want us to do then?" Sithar asked.

"Bring the creature back and work on it. Make it better suited to our uses. It needs to be able to gather information about the Time Lords, Daleks and Cybermen and bring it here in one individual being. It should take about 50 years for the passage between worlds to reopen, and equally long for the Cybermen to form an army. That's how long you have."

"Of course, Omega," Lucentio replied.

"Take this crystal ball," Omega said to him, handing him the ball, "It will help you see into the future."

Lucentio accepted the item, before both men turned and walked towards their TARDIS. The TARDIS materialised, headed for Clom, to save Gallifrey from a war that was not happening yet.


	5. The Daleks

**AN: The Doctor is finally here! And, just a reminder, as this follows on from the previous story set just after the 12th Doctor's regeneration, this is AU from Series 34 (or Series 8 of the new series)**

* * *

Clara was beginning to get used to the Doctor's change. He wasn't quite the bubbly, attractive young man that he was any more, but he had matured into someone who could take her across the universe and be able to show her the stars without causing her distraction. He was 2000 years old – much older than Clara. There was no point hiding this fact behind a baby face anyway.

"Where to today?" asked the Doctor.

"I fancy a quaint foreign world, I think," Clara replied.

"Does the planet Iras Eras sound good to you?"

"It has a fun sounding name, why not?"

The Doctor glided around the central console, and looked at the TARDIS monitor. His face dropped. Clara instantly knew something wasn't quite right.

"I don't think Iras Eras is an option right now," suggested the Doctor.

"Why not?" asked Clara.

"Because we're about to be boarded."

"Boarded?"

"Yes." The Doctor had worry in his eyes. "Two Daleks are about to break in. They're right outside the door now."

Clara looked frightened. The sound of banging initiated on the door. The Doctor turned to Clara.

"Run and hide!" he instructed. Clara turned to run out of the console room, before being stopped by the crashing open of the TARDIS doors, and two gold Daleks gliding into the room, and advancing towards the centre console.

"The female will stay where she is!" declared the front Dalek. He moved towards Clara, its gun pointed at her. The second Dalek focused on the Doctor.

"The Doctor will fly into the nearby mothership," the second Dalek ordered, also pointing his gun.

"Clara, we will find a way out, I promise," the Doctor told Clara.

"Cease talking!" interrupted the Dalek, "fly into the mothership!"

The Doctor piloted the TARDIS, which flew, forcefully, straight for the Dalek ship.

* * *

The Supremo Dalek stood higher than those that surrounded him, magnificently poised to show that he was in charge. He was the only Dalek with a white shell, being the supremo, with red paradigm Daleks and the older model gold Daleks joining him in the room. The main hall of the mothership was circular, with rows of Daleks, the gold ones at the bottom, filling the majority of the space, and red ones along the top few rows, as though they were keeping a watchful eye over the gold Daleks. All Daleks were united under one cause, but, in spite of this, the paradigm Daleks still looked as though they were superior, holding themselves above the gold Daleks. The TARDIS materialised in front of the supremo, where the Doctor and Clara were escorted out of its door, by the two Daleks that had boarded it.

"The ghost of the Doctor has landed," the Supremo announced.

"I am the Doctor," explained the Doctor, hastily, "I'm no ghost."

"You have had all your lives, Doctor. You are living on stolen time."

"I guess I'm just that special." The Doctor smiled to himself.

"Yes, you are," replied the Dalek, about as smugly as a squid inside a metal shell can be, "You have made the Daleks the supreme beings in the Universe."

The Daleks began to repeatedly cry out "Daleks are supreme!" The Doctor watched, getting a little bored. He'd seen this just a few times before.

"You just love an opportunity to brag about yourselves, don't you Daleks," the Doctor observed, once they had finally finished.

"We are not so different from you, Doctor," the supremo replied.

The Doctor paused. "So what is this 'supreme being' thing you told me about?" he enquired, slightly worriedly about what he might have done to make the Daleks so great.

"Rassilon's Gallifrey is out of the Universe. Daleks are now supreme and it's all your doing, Doctor."

"So Rassilon is threatening the Daleks' supremacy?"

The Supremo pulled his eyestalk down slightly, to make itself look a little embarrassed. "This is why you are here. You must remove Lord President Rassilon from power and we will have no interest in a second Time War.

The Doctor walked up to the Supremo, and began to circle him. He followed him around with his eyestalk. "I have encountered many great Dalek leaders," The Doctor teased, "but you aren't like them… what's your name?"

"Third Supremo of the New Dalek Paradigm," the Supremo replied, a little sheepish about his lacking a real name.

"That's not very catchy. None of the great Dalek leaders have ever asked for peace. Unlike you, Third Supremo of the New Dalek Paradigm."

"There has never been a war as damaging as the Great Time War," the Supremo replied, confident that he was in the right, especially as he was acting differently to the many great Dalek leaders the Doctor had, in fact, defeated.

"You think that the Daleks are supreme to the Time Lords even without Rassilon?" the Doctor mocked.

"Would you have us fight you again?" the Supremo threatened.

"Daleks are supreme!" yelled Clara, still standing next to the TARDIS. The Doctor turned around slowly and looked at her in shock. "Peace is the best option," she continued. The Doctor could see where she was going with this now.

But he wasn't done yet. He could help the Daleks or not, but neither option would help Gallifrey – his main focus right now. He surveyed the room, observing the way the red and gold Daleks were laid out. He also observed that the supremo's eight personal guard Daleks were all red, not gold. He turned to the rows of gold Daleks.

"These so-called 'New Dalek Paradigm' Daleks came in claiming to be 'purer' than you are," he told them, bluntly, "and they took over all Dalek proceedings, stating that you are inferior. It's almost as though you were designed to be lesser Daleks than there were. And now, this so-called 'supremo' doesn't want you to fight. How un-Dalek is that? How un-Dalek are all these new 'pure Daleks'?"

In the room above, a blue paradigm Dalek strategist was getting worried. "Gold Daleks showing high levels of rebellion," he announced to the other blue Daleks around him.

A gold Dalek elevated out of his stand, and turned to face a red Dalek behind him. The entire room stared at him.

"Exterminate paradigm Daleks!" he announced, before shooting at the targeted Dalek. He hit squarely around the eyestalk, causing the casing to shatter from the top. The red Dalek next to him fired at the rebellious gold Dalek, resulting in him falling to the ground, hitting it in a pile of flames upon impact, just in front of the front row of gold Daleks.

The Doctor ran towards Clara and the TARDIS. "Time to go," he suggested, as gold and red Daleks began firing at each other.

"Good idea," Clara assured him, as they both leapt inside. The TARDIS dematerialised quickly.

The supremo glided up to a highly-placed door, surrounded by his eight red Daleks. "Protect the supremo! Protect! Protect!" they cried. They were all hit several times by gold Daleks moving towards them, who were faster and more nimble, but lacked the firepower of the larger red Daleks. Two red Daleks were killed, and fell to the ground, even more explosively than the original gold Dalek had, but the remaining six plus the supremo made it to the door. The supremo entered the room, and the red Daleks remained outside to guard the door.

* * *

Inside, the supremo met the head blue strategist and the head orange scientist, all in staggering disbelief of the revolution that was taking place. No Dalek council had ever lost control like this before. The supremo turned to the strategist first.

"Report! What is the extent of the revolution?" he asked.

"Revolution is active on all Dalek ships," the blue Dalek replied.

The supremo became even more concerned. "Continue to monitor the activity," he instructed, "and if I die, you shall be named new supremo." He didn't think this request through as much as he could have done.

"I obey," replied the strategist. He aimed at the supremo, and exterminated him on the spot. "I shall now become the Fourth Supremo of the New Dalek Paradigm," he announced, "Now, the rebellion must end." He was convinced that the outbreak would stop with the Third Supremo gone, but, just in case, he turned to the scientist first.

"Report! What is the status of the Eternal Dalek?" he asked.

"Eternal is primed and ready," the scientist reported.

"Send out the message," instructed the new supremo.

"I obey," replied the scientist. He moved away towards a yellow Dalek stood upon a plinth, looking mighty among all the more standard Daleks below.

"The message must be sent out," instructed the orange Dalek.

"Message transmitting to the Doctor," the yellow eternal Dalek responded, in the deepest voice possible for a Dalek to have. It was almost Cyberman-tone.

The blue supremo watched the conversation from the opening of the door, before advancing itself, along with the remains of the old, white supremo. The door opened, and the two Daleks flew outside, the door shutting firmly behind them.

The majority of the remaining Daleks had now headed to the door, with the golds trying to get inside, and the reds holding them back. The floor was awash with the remains of exterminated Daleks of both colours, with smoke rising from several extinct shells.

"The supremo is dead," announced the new supremo, "all hail the supremo!"

"All hail the supremo!" cried out the red Daleks. At this moment, the blue supremo was hit hard by an array of gold Dalek rays, sending him and the white dead supremo directly to the floor below. The Daleks had well and truly fallen into anarchy.

* * *

The Doctor and Clara cleared the area as fast as possible in the TARDIS. The sense of panic was vanishing from them, and a new sense of security was once again beginning to form. This would not last long, however, as a video showed up on the TARDIS screen.

"That's odd," commented the Doctor.

"What's odd?" asked Clara. She moved around the console, to look at the screen.

The screen showed a clip of the Doctor, the Master and Rassilon stood upon Gallifrey's High Council's impossibly high walkway into the Council chamber. The Doctor was stood on the end further from the chamber itself, with Rassilon facing him from the other end. The Master stood next to Rassilon, standing at the edge of the walkway, breathing heavily, as though uncharacteristically in fear of something. He looked at Rassilon over his shoulder, who returned him a smug smile. The Master then turned back to face in front of him, and quietly stepped off, falling into the darkness below.

Rassilon raised his arms in the air, with his staff in his right hand, and his glove in his left. His smile grew bigger in triumph. "Gallifrey is mine!" he proclaimed. The on-screen Doctor looked at him, horrified, as though there was nothing he could do.

Completely unexpected to either remaining walkway occupant, Clara came running down from the Doctor's side, towards Rassilon. Rassilon reached out his glove, using it to evaporate Clara into thin air. Real Clara gasped as she saw this, the Doctor watching like a hawk, with the pained expression on his face that he reserved for the worst of times.

"What does this mean?" Clara asked, gasping for breath. She was frightened beyond her mind.

"I have to stop this from happening," the Doctor stated, "and you can't come with me."

"Am I going to die?" Clara asked, almost in tears.

"Look at me, Clara," requested the Doctor, sympathetically, "I know that time can't be rewritten once it's been seen. But if I can bring the Time Lords back properly, we can find a way to manage the paradox and save you."

"What do we need to do?" Clara asked.

"You need to go home," the Doctor instructed, with his serious face on, "if you stay away from that planet, you will not die on that walkway. That's a given."

Clara didn't want to face having to leave and do nothing, but she understood the seriousness of the situation. "Okay," she managed, still all over the place in her head.

* * *

The Doctor dropped Clara off outside the apartment block she lived in. He hugged her, said an emotional goodbye, and Clara began the long walk up two flights of stairs to her flat.

She finally arrived at her door, unlocked it and entered. Only to encounter a short, Asian woman comfortably sitting on her sofa, eating a pack of Doritos, and watching _Sherlock_.

"Hello, Clara," she said. She seemed familiar with Clara, even if Clara did not recognise her new houseguest. "I was wondering when you'd get here."

Clara looked confused. "Umm…" she began, still traumatised by her previous experience, "who are you and what are you doing in my flat?"


	6. The Search

The tide splashed against the sandy beach relentlessly, again and again, with the energy to potentially tear apart cliffs. It was getting towards low tide, meaning that a long stretch of sand stood between the waves and the high cliff. The waves were still retreating, but, before long, they would turn around and continue their endless pursuit of the side of the cliff. The sand could only stop it for so long. The day was dry and hot – not the kind of day where you would want to be wrapped up in anything.

A rock appeared which was not there before. It opened up at the side, and Sathir and Lucentio stepped outside, climbing onto the rocks that lined the beach by the bottom of the cliff.

"Not bringing your staff?" Sathir mocked.

"We won't need it until we return to the TARDIS," Lucentio pointed out.

"I take it this is Clom then," Sathir hoped, looking around.

"These are the co-ordinates we were given." Lucentio looked at a scanner he had brought, showing signs of life, "There's a city two kilometres down the coast from here. I'm getting some odd readings from it, however."

Sathir was puzzled. "What kind of readings?" he asked.

"The display keeps changing between a population of 4.2 million and 3.8 million," Lucentio observed, "it's as though it's confused itself."

Sathir walked over to the sandy part of the beach. He knelt down, and picked up a pebble. He returned to where Lucentio was standing. "How many stones are in my hand?" he asked.

"One," replied Lucentio, knowing that he would probably be wrong somewhere.

"That depends," stated Sathir, "There are grains of sand covering this pebble. Are all of these classed as individual stones?" He looked around the beach. "Sand is made by the tide grounding down rocks, until all that is left are these tiny grains," he continued to explain, "but where do you draw the line between rock and sand?"

"Interesting thought," Lucentio pondered, "But I don't see how a person can be grounded down in the same way and survive."

"Where's the nearest city you mentioned?"

"That way." Lucentio pointed to his right, whilst facing the cliff.

"Let's see what your readings are all about," suggested Sathir. The duo walked along the sand, curious as to what they would find.

As they walked, the cliff lowered, before signs of civilisation were found, in the form of an empty, but fairly major road. It led into what looked like a suburb, made up of mostly red housing. The Time Lords walked towards it, only to hit an invisible wall. An audio message played from what seemed like nowhere.

"The City of Karb has been sealed off for the protection of Clom," it announced monotonously, "no entry is permitted."

"Do you reckon that's TARDIS-proof?" asked Lucentio.

"Only one way to find out…" Sathir suggested. They both turned around and walked back to where they had parked. At least they had enjoyed a decent walk today.

It wasn't TARDIS-proof. The TARDIS materialised in the form of a high-tech white delivery van on a cobbled street, central to the city. The pair emerged out of the back door, realising that there was something strange about where they stood.

"Where are all the people?" asked Sathir.

Lucentio looked at his scanner. "They are all in the city," he observed, "but there is nobody on this street. Odd.

"We've materialised outside the place where these 'creatures' were developed," he continued to read out, "Looks like the TARDIS knew where to bring us." They crossed the road and approached a locked door, which they opened using sonic technology.

After walking through a couple of empty corridors and a reception, they arrived at a laboratory, where one lone man in a white coat was working. He turned around, surprised by his new arrivals, and that they didn't register at the reception.

"Hello?" he said, in a used, rusty voice. He had the white moustache and hair to match.

"Hi, are you the only person here?" Sathir asked.

"Just me now," the man replied, "there used to be a few of us here, but everybody else has gone."

"Gone where?" enquired Lucentio.

"You're probably wondering where everybody's got to. The whole city is empty, and yet full at the same time. Strange, isn't it?"

"Very… strange," Sathir stated, "What's your name?"

"Pollo Drother," Pollo replied.

"Sathir," Sathir shook his hand, "and this is Lucentio."

"We're aliens," Lucentio said, shaking Pollo's hand.

"We come in peace," Sathir added, smiling at the chance to add his latest comment.

"Aliens?" questioned Pollo, "you're not from Raxacoricofallapatorius. Unless you did that disguise thing that some of them do."

"No," replied Sathir, "We're Time Lords."

Pollo had heard of the Time Lords. "Real Time Lords?" he said, delighted, "It is such a pleasure to meet you. I heard you were the stuff of legend. The greatest race in the Universe!"

"We don't like to shout about it, but… yeah," Sathir responded.

Lucentio wanted to get down to business. "So where has everyone gone," he asked, killing the moment.

"Let me show you," Pollo replied, picking up a remote and turning on a flatscreen TV on the wall. He pressed a few buttons, before arriving where he wanted.

"This is CCTV footage of the last sentence which used our creatures, twelve years ago," he commented. The footage showed Karl the murderer being sentenced, and taking many other people with him.

"We know about these creatures," said Lucentio, "That's why we're here."

Pollo paused the footage at the end. He zoomed in on the creature. "This creature got out, and released all the other creatures from their prison. And now look what's happening." He flicked over to a different CCTV footage from a different busy high street.

"Look at that couple there," Pollo narrated, "just walking along, holding hands. Seems nice. But watch the man."

The man turned green, before forming into one of the creatures, with a couple of faces visible across its body. The woman of the pair had no chance, quickly joining him somewhere on the same bodily mass. But it wasn't done yet. It rushed around the area, claiming another five victims before clearing a space completely, morphing into a woman who had come into contact with it just moments ago. Pollo switched off the screen.

"And that's why the city is empty," he explained, "everybody who hasn't been caught by one of these creatures is scared to go out, or even mix with people now. I'm the only one left here because all the others have been taken by these creatures."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Sathir assured him.

Lucentio looked at his scanner again. It clearly stated that there were three people in the room. But another reading showed up. There were also six corpses. Lucentio moved his scanner around, trying to find these, out of curiosity. He zoomed down to where he was standing. In the small space occupied by him, Sathir and Pollo, these six corpses were still around. A thought came into his head, followed by an idea.

"I need to go back to the TARDIS and scan some data," he said, "stay here and see what else you can find out from Pollo and the lab," he instructed Sathir. Sathir nodded, trusting of his accomplice's plan, whatever it was.

Lucentio headed out, and Pollo turned to Sathir. "Nice meeting you," he said, "Time Lords. I can't believe I met you." He stuck his hand out again. Sathir shook it.

"You really shouldn't have done that," Pollo mentioned, coldly. His grip tightened. Concern struck Sathir's eyes. "Pollo has been dead for ten years now," he said.

Pollo flashed into five other people in white coats, in turn, before he revealed himself to be an example of the creatures that Sathir had come looking for. And Sathir was touching one of them.

"Look at these outlines of faces on me," said the creature, "These are the remains of the team that used to work here." His voice had gone from rusty to slimy, just like the texture of his hand. "And now, I shall become the first of my kind to capture a Time Lord."

Sathir's hand sank into the creature's, followed promptly by the rest of him.

* * *

Lucentio piloted the TARDIS a few metres along into the building, as it materialised around the creature which had taken Sathir victim. He placed a holding cell over it, as it materialised inside.

"Glad we could all meet together again," he said. His voice had taken a darker tone.

Sathir's face poked out from the left hand side of the creature's belly. "You set this up," he accused, gasping for breath.

Lucentio knelt down so he was able to talk directly to Sathir's face. "And now you're attached to this creature, you should be able to see into its brain, and improve our feedback."

"And why would I give you feedback now?" Sathir raged.

"Because if you don't," Lucentio paused, "we will be unable to find you a means of escape."

"There is a wealth of stuff in here," the creature observed, overwhelmed by what Sathir was providing him by becoming a face embedded into its skin, "all this knowledge and power. And there's more." It paused. "You think very highly of me. Apparently, I have the potential to become the most powerful being in existence."

"And that is what we are going to turn you into," announced Lucentio, who had now stood to face the creature, "We will do everything we can to make you feared amongst galaxies."

The creature liked the sound of this. "I know where we can begin," it suggested.

"Go on."

"A mix of different species would be ideal for me," it explained, "And there's a highly-intelligent alien stuck on Gallifrey. I can see in Sathir's head that a human named Laila Pipaluk is living amongst your people."

"Humans certainly have a lot of common sense compared to Time Lords. Some of their senses are extraordinary."

"Find me the girl," said the creature, menacingly.

"That's the first thing I'll do once we return to Gallifrey," cackled Lucentio. He tapped the staff to initiate the TARDIS's return.


	7. The Virus

After the Cybership crashed, many people had dead relatives and friends to bury and mourn. As a result, very few people actually left the city, despite the fact that they suddenly could for the first time in an eternity. After all, Nalsatti had become the only place they knew, whereas the biggest freedom was not having to live out the same day over and over and over again, not being able to physically escape. On top of all this, as nearly everybody in the city had regenerated, there was another new thing to get used to. There was only room for one big change at a time.

This was perfect for the cyber mites, who were crawling their way across the people of the city who had not left, getting inside their heads and capturing them for their own. The sheer energy that filled the air from all the regenerating that had gone on meant that the converted Gallifreyans could thrive, with the possibility of using this energy going through their heads.

It wasn't long before every single resident of the city had been infected by the mites. They had done their job well, but it wasn't over yet.

Nalsatti was full of metal and parts, which sat around the area in plentiful supply, mostly in the forms of a giant shipwreck and ruined buildings. The people could use these parts. They all knew how Cybermen worked. They'd just been provided that information, and how to use it. It seemed natural to them to become brains in metal suits.

The first Cyber factory was built using parts from the crashed ship, along with building materials and other technology originally from the city. It stood high, made of metal, with the technology inside to convert armies of the deadliest warriors.

A half-masked woman stood at the doors of the newly-opened building. She had dark frilly hair, which was about to disappear from her being, along with the rest of her flesh and her hearts and all her other parts, except for her mind. She walked forwards, emotionless and controlled, through the metal double doors and inside. The familiar sound of cutting and attaching the brain to the Cyberman shell came from the factory, and the familiar sound of marching sounded from the other end.

Something was different though. The first Cyberman walked outside, metallic and glorious, as well as shiny and new, but was not alone. Twelve other Cybermen left the factory with it, all just as shiny, and uniform. One Cyberman for every past, present and future incarnation for the woman who had originally walked into the factory. The 13 new Cybermen marched back towards the front door in formation, to awaiting masked people.

"All residents of Nalsatti shall receive an upgrade," announced the front Cyberman.

Upon instruction, everybody in the city queued at the door, awaiting their upgrade, each to become 13 Cybermen themselves. This Cyber factory, unlike any other in history, was going to make over 50 million Cybermen from just 3.9 million people. And each of these Cybermen would be Time Lord Cybermen – more powerful and intelligent than any that had been historically recorded. Nalsatti had a moving army, and was back on the map once again.

* * *

The City of Hopti had no idea what was coming. According to them, Nalsatti, the nearest city, was long destroyed, lost in the Time War. It was a real shock to them, then, to learn that an attack of Cybermen, made from the converted people of that very city, was attacking. It had taken them less than a day to march, non-stop, to Hopti, which was reported upon first sight from the border guard.

The Council held an emergency meeting. It was chaired by their Lady Mayor, Tira, a short woman who always seemed to know exactly what she was doing. She was just beginning her final life now, having regenerated from old age while at the helm, a few months ago. She regenerated into an already-mature woman, which may have helped her council take her more seriously than if she appeared younger, even if it didn't do her remaining lifespan any favours.

"Cybermen have broken their way into the city," reported the head of security, speaking as quickly as he could, as though it was going to save time. His name was Rajad, and he was a muscular man, who had learnt from his Lady Mayor's 'getting on with it' attitude.

"How many?" asked Tira.

"There could be as many as 50 million." Looks of panic surrounded the council room, although Tira remained calm, and took the time to contemplate the situation.

"Where could they possibly have come from?" she asked.

"It looks as though they came from the ruins of Nalsatti. There is a crashed Cyber ship there, and all these Cybermen seem to have escaped."

"What about the people?"

"The people are gone, and these Cybermen seem to have extra powers. Time Lord powers. I get the impression that… these are the people."

Tira looked horrified. "God rest their souls," she wished, "Did Nalsatti use that thing they were developing?"

"The Bubble of Eternity?"

"Yes, that." Tira shook her head at the thought of the sheer craziness of that device. Until she realised why it was there. "We have to stop the Cybermen from escaping the city and taking the rest of Gallifrey," she suggested.

At this moment, two guards burst their way in through the door. "The Cybermen have penetrated the bottom of the council tower," one of them announced.

"You, come with me in my TARDIS," she instructed him, before turning to the other one "you, head down to the bottom, and surrender the city to the Cybermen."

"You're making it easy for them," pointed out Rajad.

"I know," Tira replied. She walked, escorted by one of the guards, out of the room, to her TARDIS.

* * *

Inside, she gave the guard a quick pep talk.

"What's your name?" she asked.

"Atono," the guard replied.

"OK, Atono," Tira began, "we need to find the bubble of eternity from Nalsatti, and bring it back here."

"What about the city?" Atono asked.

"The city can only win this way," Tira explained, realistically, "We will need to ensure that the Cybermen can't get out."

The TARDIS landed in Nalsatti. What was left of it. It was now an empty ruin. Tira and Atono quickly found the location of the time lock, inside the crate-like escape pod.

"Help me get this desk out of the way," Tira instructed.

The pair removed the top of the desk, to find a metallic silver, spherical object, about one metre in diameter. Atono picked it up.

"This is the device," explained Tira, "the desk above it is for ease of use. But, if you press that button at the top, it should activate."

"Shall we get this back?" Atono asked.

"Of course," Tira instructed.

The TARDIS was flying over Hopti, when a concerning signal appeared on the scanner. Tira went to check this out, but she didn't need to, as the sudden bang and the TARDIS bursting into flames was extremely conclusive.

"You're going to have to take the time lock and jump!" Tira yelled to Atono, over the noise of warning sounds and her TARDIS falling to pieces.

"Won't I die?" Atono asked, concerned.

"You'll die anyway. This way, you'll regenerate. And is falling not the quickest way from A to B, when B is directly below A?"

Atono stood outside the doors, which had flown open, holding the time lock carefully in both hands.

"You not coming with me?" he asked.

"I can't regenerate again," Tira explained, "And I've got a message to send out."

Atono saluted Tira. "Maam!" he exclaimed. He put his right hand back on the time lock, before leaning back and letting himself drop from the edge. Tira turned to her screen.

* * *

A holographic image appeared in the council room, showing Tira in her falling-to-pieces TARDIS. "Defend the time lock," she instructed, "Dedicate everything to it!"

"What happens if the Cybermen get to it?" Rajad asked.

An explosion sounded from the hologram, before it promptly disappeared. Tira could only be assumed dead.

A few silent minutes later, the doors burst open, as several Cybermen marched inside. One Cyberman stood directly behind each council member. Another Cyberman with a black handle walked in behind them – the Cyber Leader.

"I believe Hopti has surrendered to the Cybermen," the Leader stated.

"I confirm our surrender," Rajad announced, "The City of Hopti and all its people are yours."

"All Hopti residents shall be upgraded. Council members are rogue elements and must be deleted," instructed the Leader.

Each of the other Cyberman placed a metal glove on the shoulder of their designated council member, and sent an electric pulse through it. One by one, each councillor began to regenerate, and, one by one, the Cyberman behind them shot them, interrupting the regeneration cycle, killing them.

"rogue…"

One day later, the Cyber Leader was caught halfway through his instructions to the other Cybermen. The entire council was alive once again, with a designated Cyberman behind each of them. They all looked confused as to why they weren't dead.

"Time lock is successfully in operation," announced the Cyber Leader, "We must deactivate it."

The Cybermen turned towards the door.

"The Council must be deleted first," the Leader then instructed.

The killing process from the previous day repeated itself, before the Cybermen all marched down to find the time lock.

Years passed. The Cybermen eventually found the time lock, but the Time Lords defending it with their lives. Both sides were hard to kill, making it extremely hard for the Cybermen to capture it and switch it off in a single day, hence why it took so long. However, what was known was that the process prevented an army of Cybermen to conquer Gallifrey too quickly, allowing the planet to prepare for the inevitable eventual day when the Cybermen would succeed in escaping Hopti.


	8. The Entry

A dark green tribesman wondered through the trees of the forests, in his native Hond tribe's land. He was barefoot and barely dressed – typical for a local tribesman, as it was too hot to really require clothes. He walked and walked, before reaching a large clearing. It looked as though trees had previously inhabited this area, but not any more. They had been removed years ago.

In front of him lay a buggy-like vehicle, which consisted of four large, but basic wheels strung together with what looked like wood. It had a steering wheel and pedals, as well as a loading bay, and an internal combustion engine in the front. Timber lay on the loading bay behind the drivers' seat, strapped down to prevent it from falling off.

He pushed the accelerator pedal, and the engine fired into life. The vehicle wasn't safe by any means. Its basic structure meant that you could be thrown out very easily, especially given the rough terrain that it had to go along. It lacked the suspension for the job, in fact, it lacked any suspension. And, as if that wasn't enough, the combination of an internal combustion engine and such a simple, unprotective frame meant that it could burst into flames at any moment. This had happened many times, killing many a driver. Along the route that the vehicle took, there was evidence of the remains of this happening, just left there as a ghostly reminder of what these things were capable of.

The tribesman made it safely, however. He got off his buggy, and mopped his brow in relief. Other tribe members gave him a hand to unload. They were still in the clearing, but this part was flattened, although not tarmacked. A runway-like surface ran down from the winged vehicle that sat in front of where the buggy had parked. The other end of the runway was the exact site where the Master had originally fallen onto the planet, and there he stood, fiddling with some finishing touches. Small metal wires spread across the area, on both sides of the runway, and he knew every single function of every single wire. Unlike the locals.

"The final pieces are being added now," a messenger told him. The Hond language had developed a lot over the years.

"I have been waiting for this day for so long," said the Master, excitedly, "I've been here 53 years now. That's a lifetime for you people." This was true, as nobody currently alive actually remembered how the Master had got here. But they all knew why. At least, they thought they did.

The Master flicked a switch on a console that he had built. He looked up at the air above the runway, in hope. A faint, wonky line drew itself between two points before separating into two, identical wonky lines, with light glimmering in between them. Every member of the tribe present immediately turned to look at what was happening. It was like nothing they had ever seen before, which was more than could be said for the Master.

"Keep that button pushed," the Master instructed the messenger.

"Yes, Master," the messenger responded.

The Master strolled along the runway towards the flying machine. It had two wheels at the bottom, a propeller at the front, and two cloth-like wings in the middle, with a closed cockpit separating them, just behind the propeller. The large tail behind it was there to guide its flight, and its target had just been well-established. Two tribesmen stood, patiently outside the plane.

"I take it you are the lucky two?" the Master asked them. He waved them inside the cockpit, and then stood at the door himself. "You all clear of what to do?" he shouted across the runway. This was met with a series of nods. The Master closed the door, and sat down inside.

Two other tribe members removed wooden chocks from the wheels, the old-fashioned way. The plane began to gather speed. This was a big moment for the tribe – two of their members were going to see the stars. It was something they had all dreamed of for many years. The plane gained some lift along the runway, before disappearing into the space being created by the Master's weird machine that no tribe member dared touch.

* * *

Rassilon was lying on his balcony, when a welcome friend returned. The spacetime crack that the Doctor had sealed off from the other side some 53 years ago began to open up, with no warning, in the sky above the city. He stood up and leant on the side. He raised his arms in the air in celebration – this was the first step towards Gallifrey finally returning to the real Universe. This joy turned to anguish, however – what had caused it to open? Was it dangerous? Where the Daleks attacking again?

Gallifrey's democracy had fallen to pieces. In the second ever election, Rassilon took the people by storm, after he and the High Council dealt with the Cybermen, who had just escaped from Hopti, so well. It was 32 years ago now, and very few people had felt the need to protest against him taking absolute power in this way, when he declared it. And those people's voices had been silenced by the mass popular voice of the majority. The Cybermen were still around, but were being held back in the area around Hopti and Nalsatti. Mostly thanks to the war room, of course, but where would Rassilon be if he didn't take credit for everything he could?

The next turn of events was a little unexpected. A fragile flying machine came through – completely unlike anything that could possibly have technology advanced enough to breach the spacetime continuum like this. It looked like it might have been built by the Wright brothers. Rassilon grew worried. Was it a trap? Was he supposed to be lulled into a false sense of security? He waited and watched, anxiously.

* * *

The Master turned to his two passengers. "See you later!" he announced.

"What do you mean?" the one closest to him asked.

The Master opened the door. He had a backpack on his back.

"I mean, enjoy your flight." A smug smile crawled across his face.

"What's on your back?" the other passenger demanded, starting to feel uneasy about the Master's latest actions.

"A parachute." The Master leapt out of the side of the plane, and accelerated towards the ground of his home planet. It was good to breathe his native air once more, and exhilarating to fly through it like this.

The natives stuck in the plane had a much worse experience upon arrival. They looked out of their window, to see a missile heading straight for them.

The plane combusted into a fiery end, causing it to separate into many pieces, killing the two remaining passengers immediately. Various plane bits fells towards the ground, following the Master close behind, although none going anywhere near him. The Master pulled open his parachute, and touched down, treading on his home planet once more. It was good to be back. But his work had only just begun.

* * *

The Hond tribe watched their creation disappear into a new world – the first of their kind to touch the stars. It was a cause of celebration, but did not last long.

A sighting became present in the sky above the runway. It grew closer and closer, soon revealing itself to be several different objects. Golden metal things, gliding through the sky, touching down gracefully right in front of the crowd that had gathered to see off the plane.

A black Dalek with golden domes moved through the lines of gold Daleks which had landed. Hond's King Angelo walked up to him, unaware of the danger that was posed before him.

"You will surrender to the Daleks," ordered the black Dalek.

"You don't know who you're dealing with, Daleks," the King responded, "We are the Hond tribe, the most advance tribe in the world." The Dalek shook his eye stalk, in a little confusion. The King continued, beginning to yell. "We will crush the metal that makes you with our technology!" he declared. This was succeeded by a loud, indistinct battle cry from tribe members across the scene. The Dalek had had enough. He moved his sucker towards Angelo's face.

"Exterminate!" cried the Dalek.

"With that thing?" the King mocked. This didn't last long. The Dalek's sucker grabbed his face, changing it into a lighter, mouldier green colour, before he dropped dead to the ground. The tribe members looked on in horror. Some began to fire pistols at the Daleks. The bullets just melted before they reached them. Daleks shot at these people, exterminating them all on the spot. They moved forward, to indiscriminately kill the people of the tribe. It was a massacre.

"We surrender!" yelled a young man, after just a few minutes. He had been Prince Explo, but would now succeed his Father to the throne upon his death. All of the Daleks spontaneously ceased, and turned their eye stalks to the new King. The black Dalek wheeled up to him. He turned his eye stalk up to look at Explo directly in the eye. The King did not flinch.

"You surrender your tribe to the Daleks?" the Dalek questioned him, attempting to force the King into a 'yes'.

"We surrender to the Daleks," clarified Explo, in sad desperation. This was a terrible start to his reign, and could spell an end to life as the tribe knew it.

The Dalek strolled across the area, towards the portal that was still open, looking hopefully at it. "Daleks have control of the area. All residents shall follow Dalek orders. Daleks are supreme. Any who do not obey shall be exterminated." Looks of a loss of hope fell across the tribe.

And then the least unexpected thing happened. A gold Dalek burst into flames in the background. The black Dalek turned around to look immediately.

A second wave of Daleks filled the sky. But these were red, and larger. They fired with greater power, but the gold Daleks ran circles around them.

"Exterminate the new Paradigm!" ordered the black Dalek. The tribe scarpered for the protection of the trees, as the two factions engaged in yet another of their endless battles. But there was much, much more at stake this time. The gateway to Gallifrey loomed above them, but they seemed pretty determined that only one side would actually make it through.

A blue box materialised just next to the portal. The black Dalek looked over at it, knowing exactly what it meant. He moved towards it. Meanwhile, a large white Dalek temporal shifted right in front of it. The Doctor stepped out.

"I take it you're the boss Daleks who are about to kill me," the Doctor observed.

"I, the 17th Supremo of the New Dalek Paradigm shall be the destroyer of the greatest enemy of the Daleks!" announced the white Dalek.

The black Dalek turned his weapons and fired at the white Dalek. He fired again, shattering the white Dalek to pieces. The Doctor watched eagerly, as a red Dalek shot down the black Dalek in one almighty blow. He was forced to step back and take evasive action from the blast. He looked at the offending red Dalek, before rushing back into his TARDIS. He chuckled to himself. He did enjoy his fun.

* * *

Rassilon watched the newly-opened crack in anticipation. Was there more to come? Something came through. He recognised that ridiculous blue box appearance the Doctor insisted on having for his TARDIS. He sighed. What was possibly going to happen now?

He didn't have to ponder over this for a great deal of time. The TARDIS that he had been watching materialised on his balcony behind him. The Doctor stepped out.

"Hello, Lord President," he said.

"Nice of you to burst in on me like this, Doctor," Rassilon responded.

"We need to talk about something," explained the Doctor. He knew that Rassilon wasn't going to like what was next.

"You've come to the right place. Take a seat." The Doctor sat at a table, surprised at Rassilon's willingness to talk. He had to be careful not to let him lose this.

Rassilon turned to a servant on his balcony. "A couple of glasses and a bottle of our finest wine please, my good man," he said. He sat down. "So, Doctor, what is it that you need to talk about so desperately?"

"I need you to resign as Lord President."


	9. The Trap

Laila Pipaluk sat silently and still. Three of the four walls that surrounded her were covered in mirrors, with the other being a glass door, which could slide open into a high-tech testing area. She looked ahead, at the mirror that lay directly in front of her. She examined her face. It was all she could see of herself, and it was green, embedded in a thick flesh of the same green, that appeared to be swallowing her up constantly, but never actually succeeding in doing so completely. Her face was pinned just below the back of another creature's neck. That was such a strange concept! She had been this way for a week now, and boredom had begun to creep into her. All she could do right now was hang around and contemplate how she got here.

It had started when she looked very different to how she did now. She had received a message, not long after discovering that she, and all her ambitions of travelling the stars, were trapped on Gallifrey for the time being. She knew that she would have to find some kind of work somewhere if she was going to remain where she was, and being headhunted for the role of 'chief scientific assistant' on 'Project Abzor' seemed like a great opportunity. It seemed stupid not to at least take a look.

She arrived, as instructed, to the 38th floor of the Citadel's main tower the following morning, enthusiastic about the prospect of starting her new job. She knocked on the door of the required room – 38.21.

"Come in!" a voice cried out. Laila pushed the door open, to witness for the first time that lab and the mirrored section that she had become so familiar with by now. Two men stood inside, one matching the description of Lucentio, in the lab part, and the other matching Sathir's description, in the mirrored section.

"Welcome to Project Abzor," declared Lucentio, "my name is Lucentio, and this here," he gave a thumb in Sathir's direction, "is Abzor himself."

Laila looked at Abzor. He was staring at her, with a delighted obsessiveness that began to make her feel very uncomfortable.

"Please don't be freaked out by Abzor," Lucentio insisted, "he's genetically engineered. We have to keep him in a holding cell and in that caged area in order to protect us from him."

"Oh, I see," Laila said, beginning to get an idea of where she was, "so this is a genetics project?"

"Yep," Lucentio replied.

"Ok. I was never really that good at biology…"

"That doesn't matter. Nothing you've picked up on Earth of a scientific nature is going to be valuable to a Gallifreyan project anyway." Lucentio was very blunt about this. Laila tried her best not to be offended, although Lucentio did have a point.

"What do you need me for, then?" Laila asked.

"We've come to understand that your human mind has certain qualities about it that Time Lords don't necessarily have," Lucentio explained, with a slight chuckle to himself, "these qualities could become invaluable to our project." He pulled a lever on the control panel which sat next to the caged area. The glass doors slid open. "Would you like to have a closer look at Abzor?" he offered.

"Of course," Laila replied. She nervously followed Lucentio in the caged area, unaware of how close a look she was about to get.

Laila gave Abzor a glance. He stood there, still and silent, still staring at her. Lucentio stepped back to the control panel. He pulled the lever back, closing the doors again. Laila looked at him with concern. Had she been too trusting of him? A strange sound came from Abzor. Laila turned around, to see what was going on. What she saw was the disgusting fatty green creature that she was going to become part of. The terror that had gone into her stayed fresh in her mind to this day. There was a face attached to this… thing. Just like she was attached to it now.

"I'm sorry," said the face, "it's a trap. I wish I could have stopped this."

Laila turned to Lucentio. "What's… happening?" she asked, nervously.

"I am Abzor," said Abzor, "some could call me Abzorbaloff. You are about to help me towards becoming the single greatest being that ever lived."

"Abzorbaloff?" Laila asked, "That's a stupid name. Sounds like it was creating by a nine-year-old."

"I think it's pretty stupid too," Lucentio stated, "He doesn't even absorb – it's an illusion. It's more of a miniaturisation field. But Abzor and I agree to disagree on that one."

"This whole thing just looks like a sick joke," Laila observed, accusingly, still very uncertain about her immediate future.

"If it's a joke," Lucentio said coldly, "then why are you so scared of it?" he pushed a button on the panel. The holding cell switched off, and Abzor began to rush towards Laila.

Laila could just remember banging on the glass, begging to be let go. "Stop!" she yelled, "I'm more valuable to you in full form!"

Back to the present, and Abzor had a message for the face on his back. "I think you're ready to go," he said.

Laila closed her eyes. She knew what was coming next. All she could do was wait. Abzor sucked his back in, and within a few seconds, Laila's face sank into Abzor's thick, green flesh. Abzor breathed a sigh. He walked towards the wall, next to the door, where a red button sat at a comfortable arm's height. He pushed it, and the glass doors opened up. He stepped outside, into the lab area.

A green board stood on the wall, on the opposite side from the control panel. Below it was a two metre long silver cylindrical instrument, directly attached to the board through a tube, about 30cm in diameter. The top half of the cylinder was transparent, whilst the bottom half was surrounded by casing which looked almost like a metallic bathtub.

Abzor placed his hand onto the board. A pulse sensation raced across his arm. This got to him every time. One day it wouldn't.

A vastly miniaturised version of the woman that Clara had found on her sofa slid out of the tube. After a few seconds, she promptly grew back to her full size. She lay still for a while. It took a bit of time for her to get used to having her body back, after barely being able to feel or use any of it for several days.

Shortly, the woman opened the lid and climbed out of the tube. She stood by it for a couple of minutes, before carrying out a series of stretches. This was vital to restore full muscle definition for herself. Abzor watched her.

"Your new face suits you, Laila," Abzor observed.

"I've had it for two years now," Laila replied. This was true, as she had regenerated from old age two years ago.

"I mean it suits you not being green."

Laila laughed quietly to herself. She picked up a tablet computer, pushed some buttons on it, and sat down. Each movement still required a little bit of extra effort, but she was getting used to it by now.

"What do you remember?" Laila asked.

"Still nothing," Abzor replied.

Laila looked disappointed. "Nothing at all?" she continued, hoping there would finally be more of a difference made, after this long slog of achieving little progress.

Abzor thought hard to himself. "It's as though the moment I touch that board, everything goes," he finally answered.

"At what point?"

Another pause. "It's probably the shockwave I get when you leave my arm. It's not just a focused through my arm, but also my mind. Everything just goes."

"Do you think you can control it?"

"Sometimes." Abzor paused again, "Sometimes I get the odd moment when I can remember your thoughts a few seconds after the point when you leave. But it's usually gone by the time you've regrown to full size."

"Maybe," Laila suggested, "when releasing me, you should focus hard on the information you're trying to keep. Perhaps that will help you retain them."

"Worth a try," Abzor pondered.

"Wanna give it a go now?" Laila asked.

"Ok then."

Laila stood up and walked towards Abzor. She was still recovering from the last time she was in him, but at least it would be easy to adapt to being back. As she approached the green creature, she couldn't help but notice the remains of a face that lay on the left side of his enormous belly. She was there when these remains had first appeared. The event stayed clearly in her head, as she knew it would do for the rest of her life. She froze, staring at the faint outline of the eyes, nostrils and mouth that sat there like a scar from the distant past, refusing to go away. Another flashback stormed through her mind.

Sathir's face poked out from Abzor, just as it had for the two years Laila was involved with the project for. Abzor chose this moment to give some news of the worst kind.

"Sathir's time on me is up," he said, pitifully, "I can't stop it."

"I've known it for some time," Sathir replied, trying his best to ignore the fact that he was about to die. He looked ahead at Lucentio and Laila. Lucentio's silvery hair had grown longer – starting to reach shoulder length now.

"You've been a great friend and a fantastic insight. I'm sorry I did this to you," Lucentio told Sathir. His face fell. Nothing was going to change what he had done all that time ago.

"I forgive you," Sathir responded, with a smile, "We couldn't have got this far without me here."

Over the next few minutes, Sathir's face fell backwards, and the remains that Laila found herself staring at now stood as a reminder that that was where he was. A reminder of the fact that he had been there, and that being there had killed him. And now it seemed that Laila could just 'hop' in and out whenever she fancied.

As Sathir died, Laila and Lucentio wrapped their arms around each other in comfort. Abzor looked on, knowing deeply that this was the kind of contact that he could never have. Certainly not in his 'true' form.

After a moment, Lucentio stepped back. "You made me a better person since then," he told Laila. This was not the first time she had heard this from him. And he had changed a lot since she first entered his room of horrors.

Another flashback, to that day. Laila banged on the glass, begging to be let go. "Stop!" she yelled, "I'm more valuable to you in full form!"

Lucentio pushed a button on the control panel, looking at her. Abzor was trapped in a holding cell, just centimetres away from her. He pushed desperately against the cell, trying to get at his target.

"You'd better say something impressive," Lucentio told Laila. I could push this button again.

Laila thought on her feet. It was paramount that she did so while she still had them. "I helped defeat the Cybermen," she told him, "and the Master. They invaded my planet."

"Impressive," Lucentio said, "that even you are scared of my creation." His hand waved over the button.

"You don't need somebody else to give feedback from the inside," Laila continued abruptly, "I can provide an extra pair of hands. Make observations. Take reports."

Lucentio thought to himself. He removed his hand from the button, and transferred it to the lever next to it. He pulled it. The doors opened, and Laila was able to walk away freely, the doors sliding back together behind her. The creature was kept away from here again, safely behind the glass, just like an animal in the reptile section of the zoo.

"Go home," Lucentio instructed, "Come back tomorrow morning, sharpish. You don't know what us Time Lords are capable of."

Laila didn't know what the Time Lords were capable of. She came back, through fear of the unknown for the first few days, but as she carried out her role, she began to see the potential in the project, and in Lucentio. Maybe he and his project could really become something if she could help push it in the right direction. And by the time she looked back and remembered these early days, she knew nothing else on Gallifrey. She had really made the project her own.

"Laila, are we doing this or not?" Abzor asked.

Laila snapped out of it. "Of course," she said. She hugged Abzor in a way he very rarely knew.

"That's nice," Abzor commented. Laila wasn't in a great position to reply, as she was already beginning to slip into his skin. Within seconds, she fell completely inside, like she had done many times before. Where was she going to wind up this time?

Laila's face was pushed out once again. She looked ahead in the mirror. A bum crack sat to her left. "I wish you wouldn't do this to me sometimes," she said.

"I'm sorry Laila, but you're talking out of my arse," Abzor responded. He laughed loudly to himself. Laila let out a chuckle, turning around her irritation of Abzor's choice of position.

"We need to connect our minds," Laila said. Both she and Abzor thought deeply, in some moments of concentration. They knew that this would go on for about 90 minutes.

"You've been thinking about Lucentio," Abzor observed.

"Hey, private brain parts," Laila complained.

"We need to be properly synced up," Abzor explained, as though he was making excuses, "You literally don't know what you think of him."

"I have Dasilen," Laila argued.

"I know. For the third time. Wow. Seems he's taking up a lot of space too."

"Shut up and study the rest of my brain."

One hour of concentrative silence followed. This was broken, however, when Lucentio burst in. His silver hair flowed down below his shoulders, and he wore a royal white robe, carrying his staff around everywhere with him.

"How much longer have you got left?" he asked.

Abzor turned around so that Laila was facing Lucentio. Lucentio laughed at where Laila had wound up.

"Another 90 minutes," Laila said, frustrated over the fact that the interruption meant that they would have to start again.

"Well, I bring great news," Lucentio announced, "the crack has re-opened. You can now go home!"

Laila's green face lit up. She had been stuck on Gallifrey for years – it was her home now, but the prospect of an escape, just for a while, and the chance to finally see the stars excited her deeply.


	10. The Threat

Rassilon looked across the table at the Doctor, surprised over what he had just said.

"You think you can just park your stupid little blue box on my balcony and ask me to resign as Lord President?" he asked, threateningly.

"No," replied the Doctor, "I would need to have good reason to do that of course."

"You had better have an extremely good reason."

"Lucky I came with one." The Doctor pointed his sonic screwdriver at his TARDIS. "I took the liberty of setting up a sound recording from the other side of the crack before I came." Sounds of Daleks voiced from the TARDIS, fighting and shooting each other.

"What's going on?" Rassilon asked.

"There are two factions of Daleks right on the other side of that space," the Doctor informed him, pointing at the crack which loomed above the skies, wide open, "if that doesn't close up, they will come and attack sooner or later and we could have a second Time War."

Rassilon laughed this off. "Nonsense," he said, "They're too busy fighting each other. Gallifrey is perfectly safe. And anyway, what does that have to do with me being Lord President?"

"They believe that you are the one Time Lord who can make us the 'supreme beings'. Not true, of course, but your Lord Presidency is putting Gallifrey in danger."

"That still doesn't change the fact that the Daleks are too busy fighting among themselves over one space."

The Doctor stood up. "What happens when somebody finds a way of opening up another crack elsewhere in the Universe, leading straight to that big thing in the sky?" he yelled, "it could be somebody as simple as a clever teenager mucking about in his or her bedroom. Daleks find another way in; Time War."

"Then the crack must be closed up," Rassilon responded, decisively.

"Would it not be better for Gallifrey to be able to connect with the rest of the Universe? Let us observe once again. Travel the stars. Like we used to be able to before war took that away from us?"

Rassilon searched for ideas. "I have to stay," he declared, "There is a stream of powerful Cybermen on the other side of the planet, which we have our military dedicated to holding back. I need to be retained to prevent them from taking over our world and converting us all. It is for this reason that our democracy was allowed to end – I am the Lord President that keeps everyone safe from the Cybermen."

"And what are you doing that the war council could not be doing themselves?" the Doctor asked.

Rassilon was fearful of the day this question would be asked. He had run out of arguments. Time to stamp out some authority. He stood up, to make eye contact with the Doctor. "I will not be removed!" he yelled to him.

The Doctor stared back. He spoke calmly. "You can step down now, or I will bring you down from office myself."

"Is that a threat, Doctor?"

At this point, Rassilon's servant came back with the wine he had asked for. He could tell that the situation had changed. But he said nothing – he didn't want to lose his job. He simply stood there, awkwardly, not sure about what to do next.

The Doctor strolled back to his TARDIS, content over what he wanted to do. "It's a threat," he declared, "I will do everything that I can to bring you down if you don't resign."

"Then you are an enemy of the state, Doctor," Rassilon told him, "and I must have you executed." He turned to his servant, still standing around awkwardly. "Get the guards," he told him.

The servant put the tray down on the table, and ran to fetch Rassilon's guards. Rassilon turned back to the Doctor. To his horror, he saw the TARDIS door closing. The Doctor had always been a slippery one. Four guards ran towards the scene.

"Let's get him pinned up against his own TARDIS," Rassilon yelled, angrily, as though the guards had actually done that, "Nice one."

A messenger ran onto the balcony. "Lord President," she said, "Word is that the Master has been found on the planet. He came here via that primitive flying machine."

Rassilon turned to the messenger. "Thank you," he said to her. He turned to his guards. "Find The Doctor and The Master. Bring them back here alive." The guards turned sharply and marched off to find the offending Time Lords. Rassilon sat down at his table, and poured himself a drink which the servant had conveniently left behind. He was getting stressed. But being Lord President meant that sometimes, he had to make impossibly harsh decisions. He hated this about his job. But Gallifrey couldn't afford a rebellion. Certainly not now. The Doctor's warning stuck in his head, and he had to find a way of preventing any further harm from coming to his planet. Even if it meant sealing it off from the Universe forever.


	11. The Solution

Laila took a seat. It had been one of those crazy out-in-out days, where she wasn't sure whether she was a full person or just a green face. She was pretty sure she had an entire body right now, though.

Sat to her side was Abzor, who had just released her from being a face on his behind. She was grateful that he hadn't sat on her and squished her this time. Lucentio sat down ahead, looking as though he had something big on his mind that he was about to remove.

"There's just one person missing," Lucentio announced.

"Who?" Laila asked.

Lucentio waved his staff. What looked like black dust poured out of it, hitting the floor and swirling around, to create a figure. Soon, this figure gained the exact same appearance as Omega.

"This is Omega, creator of time travel, and hero to all Time Lords," Lucentio announced. He got up a pushed his arm straight through him. "Just a hologram," he said while sitting down.

"Lucentio and Sathir went to see him all those years ago before we joined," Abzor informed Laila. He would continue to retain all of Sathir's memories for life.

"The crack has opened and Gallifrey remains accessible to the rest of the Universe, as it was foreseen," Omega commented, "Two groups of Daleks fight for an invasion. Cybermen surround the city of Hopti. Another Time War beckons across the whole of Gallifrey."

"And what's our role in this?" Laila questioned him. She knew exactly what she needed to know.

"As you know, Abzor's powers could allow him to become the most advanced creature in all his history. He currently has the entire team that first engineered him and…" Lucentio paused for a second as he remembered, "a Time Lord on board, and he can access all of their memories and ideas and thinking patterns, as well as take all their physical forms."

"Yes, and now we're trying to make him so that he can do this for people he's let go."

"And how's that going?"

"Not quite working yet," Laila replied, "he's not ready to take on several people and life forms and amass their potential gains permanently."

"Do you know the great thing about robotic technology, such as that which the Daleks and Cybermen both employ?" Omega interrupted.

"Easy to hack?" Lucentio guessed.

"Not easy, no. But easier than biological cells." Omega pulled his left arm out, and more black dust circled in front of him, forming a machine. It featured a basic control panel and an archway. "I have put together this machine," he explained, "We will need to place a Dalek and Cyberman part here, on the main console, whilst somebody with inside knowledge of these creatures walks through the arch."

"What do you mean, inside knowledge?" asked Lucentio.

"Somebody who has made it as a Dalek or Cyberman themselves, and somehow made it back out again."

"Great idea. Apart from the fact that that is completely impossible."

"Do alternative timelines count?" Laila asked.

"I think alternative timelines could be our best friend for this to work," Omega replied.

"Good." Laila looked pleased. "I know a woman who has been a Dalek in a different life, as well as a Cyberman in a timeline which got altered. Hence, she is alive and breathing to this day."

Omega was relieved to hear this. "Is she a Time Lord?" he enquired.

"No, she's human. Is that going to be a problem?"

"Yes. The human brain doesn't quite have the complexity for the sheer technological understanding of what goes into a Dalek. Whilst Cybermen are a bit simpler, these Cybermen were built from Time Lords, so we need to have a Time Lord going through as well."

"Guess that's where I come in," Abzor responded, "with her in my belly, I can walk through with both her knowledge and Sathir's understanding. This should be enough."

Lucentio hated this scientific inaccuracy with a passion. It was the one thing that really bugged him about Abzor. "She won't go any further than your skin," he corrected him; "I thought you had the knowledge of all the scientists who made you at your disposal?"

"Just sounds better," Abzor replied, with a cheeky smile. He played up Lucentio like this deliberately now.

"I think we're getting side-tracked," Omega burst in, before continuing to explain what would happen, "when Abzor walks through the archway, the machine will work its magic on the minds of the Daleks and the Cybermen, manipulating who they think their allegiances lie with. They will attack each other, and leave us alone in the process."

Nods of approval circled the room. Lucentio began to work on a plan.

"Laila," he instructed, "go and find this woman, bring her here and get her connected with Abzor. I shall find the Daleks and the Cybermen, recover the parts we need, and bring them back here. Then we'll go and visit Omega."

"There is somebody who can help with the parts," Omega told Lucentio, "a man currently on the run from Rassilon and his guards. His name is 'The Doctor'."

"The Doctor?" Lucentio grew in excitement, "The same Doctor who saved Gallifrey from destruction in the last day of the Time War?"

"That would be him. Word is that he is on his way to a rural village, not too far away from the Citadel. I shall give you the co-ordinates via your staff."

"Excellent. Your help has proven more valuable than I can imagine, Omega," Lucentio commented.

"Very well. Goodbye," Omega replied. The swirl of black pieces began again, from the top this time, causing Omega and his machine to apparently return back inside the staff.

Laila and Lucentio both walked outside the door towards where their respective TARDISes were parked. Gallifrey was under threat, but they both knew that they were going to be able to stop it soon. And that felt pretty awesome.

Laila was uneasy. She knew that Clara was special to the Doctor, and there would be a lot of trouble if something went wrong. But she was about to return to Earth for the first time for a very long time. And that excited her. So she focused on that.

Lucentio was equally uneasy. He hadn't got everything out that he had hoped. What he was doing while Laila was left working with Abzor was still largely unknown. It didn't matter. It was going to come out soon enough. At the right time. But the task in hand was what mattered now. He had to find the Doctor.


End file.
